Just Friends?
by Fuyumi
Summary: This is a collection of different characters' views on the H/H relationship. Chapter thirteen has just been posted.
1. Trelawney

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

Sibyll Trelawney was not a happy witch. 

She glared at her sixth-year Gryffindor class. Somehow, she just knew they were all laughing at her in their minds. Sure, they all looked like they were being studious, as they applied themselves to reading Tarot cards, but after all, you can't hide the truth from someone with the gift of the Inner Eye. They were laughing at her and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. 

Damn it! She had always known that genius is oft misunderstood. She expected and was even eager for people to misunderstand her—as a sign of her obvious talents, of course! However, no one had ever told her that her particular brand of genius would be ridiculed out right with students blatantly snickering at her constantly. All right—not so blatant as to do it out loud, but it's not as if that made a difference to one of her gifts. 

It was all very vexing indeed. Trelawney attempted a McGonagall impersonation as she scanned the classroom to make sure the students would not give in to their inner laughter and instead remain on task. This only served to upset her even further, as Professor McGonagall was another of her many detractors. Trelawney would not put it pass her to actively encourage students to mock divination and its professor. 

In fact, that made perfect sense! McGonagall was the head of house for no other than the _Gryffindors_. These were the _Gryffindors_ that she was teaching. No wonder why they were so lacking in the proper respect to a Seer such as herself. McGonagall was actively influencing them. It was a wonder indeed that she had not managed to corrupt the shyly innocent Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Trelawney decided that she would have to get back her own at McGonagall. Perhaps by throwing a good hex or two at the wayward transfiguration professor. Except that would not exactly work as Trelawney would probably be transformed into something vexing, like a cat! There was nothing to do but to rely upon her vast verbal wit—some rather disparaging remarks about McGonagall's ever-present bun should do the trick. She was dying to use the advice from Lockhart's latest book on witty dialogue anyway. 

It must be noted here that Trelawney's McGonagall impression was failing miserably. It was in fact so bad that one Mr. Weasley could not help but remark to one Mr. Potter that it appeared that batty old Trelawney had become cross-eyed. With boys being boys, they could not help but smirk at that remark. These smirks had the unfortunate reaction of drawing the attention of the already-irate divination professor to the two boys. 

The smirks on their faces were enough to confirm Trelawney's earlier suspicions. They all were indeed laughing at her! And she was looking right at the biggest reason why—Harry Potter. 

It was very clear to anyone with a modicum of sense that Mr. Potter was Marked For Death. Trelawney fancied that she could see images of his impending doom in the very air around him. Ever since she met she knew that he would not live to a grand old age. And while other professors may think it kinder to not mention the fact to the poor boy, she had no such inhibitions. 

Or rather, it would be more accurate to say, to her mind at least, that she was attempting to prepare the poor boy and his friends for his eventual departure from the mortal coil. It was a public service really. They should appreciate her attempts to prime them for the harsh realities of life. Hence, she had been predicting his death as soon as she met him for the benefit of all her students. 

Of course, she first met him when he was a third-year. He was still alive and breathing as a sixth-year despite all of her grandiose foretellings of death and destruction. It was very, very vexing indeed! And with that thought, Trelawney concluded that the sooner she could look up Lockhart's chapter on developing an impressive vocabulary, the better. She had just used the word vexing a number of times in the last few minutes and the repeated word was getting to be rather—vexing. 

Argh! It was that word again! And it was all Potter's fault! Well, not all his fault, as McGonagall shared a good deal of the blame as well. But it was mainly his fault. Her students wouldn't be laughing at her right now if he had just died as he was supposed to. Sure, there would be no one to count on to fight You-Know-Who, but on the other hand, she would have finally gotten to say, "I told you so!" to McGonagall. Trelawney had briefly toyed with the idea of sticking her tongue out as well when the good news finally came, but she put that aside as being too immature and childish. 

But the whole point of the matter was that Potter was making her a laughingstock by being alive, instead of dead. She fervently wished that the stupid boy would finally die die die DIE DIE! 

**CRACK**> 

Sibyll Trelawney looked down at the now-broken teacup in her hands. Damn it! Why had she been holding a teacup when this class was so obviously about reading the Tarot? She paused for a minute, trying to recapture her earlier logic. That's right—she had taken some tea to relax her nerves because all of her students had been laughing at her. Only now they were all staring at her. 

With that thought, Sibyll's head quickly snapped up, meeting the astonished gaze of her entire class. 

"Professor?" came Lavender Brown's soft voice, "Are you feeling well?" 

Settling her flustered nerves, Trelawney smile reassuringly at Ms. Brown. "Yes, my dear, thank you for asking. I was in a trance and lost track of myself." She stood up. "Ah, my Inner Eye reveals that some of you have been dealt life-changing hands." With that, she walked over to Mr. Potter's desk. She just knew his cards foretold his doom and she was going to tell everyone about it. 

Arriving at her destination, she glanced down at the cards spread on top of the desk. "Indeed, my Inner Eye has once again revealed the truth! For Mr. Potter has a very interesting hand." She immediately saw the Tower card, reversed. While she had not kept up on all the various meanings of the cards, she was rather sure that card in that position meant a big change was in the wings. And she could make that into a death omen easily—the big change would be that Harry Potter would finally die like he should have long ago! 

At least, that was her plan, until she heard Mr. Weasley whisper to her victim, "I bet you five sickles that she sees your death in those cards." 

"What else would she see?" Mr. Potter replied. "Actually, I almost wish she would make one. Her death omens don't scare me all that much any more. Makes me feel rather safe as none of them have yet to come true." 

It was very fortunate for the two Gryffindors that Trelawney did not have her wand on her. Otherwise, she would have attempted to turn them both to teacups, which she would promptly hand over to Neville Longbottom for use. Those two obnoxious boys were acting worse than the rest of her class! McGonagall had corrupted them almost to the point of no return. They were getting to be as bad as that Granger girl! At least with Granger, she sort of had her revenge two years ago with all the rumors flying around about what a bad little girl Granger was. 

And with that thought, Sibyll Trelawney conceived of the most perfect revenge to enact on Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger too. And seeing them suffering would have the additional benefit of making McGonagall miserable as well! 

"The Tower, reversed," she started, pointing to the card on Harry's desk. "This signifies a great change will occur in your life today." She stepped away from the desk, so as to better face her audience. "Indeed, I sense that one of your relationships will undergo a great revolution today. What you have always thought of as friendship . . . it will go beyond that and become the deepest, most passionate of loves! Mark my words, all of you—Harry Potter and Hermione Granger are more than just friends!" With that pronouncement of doom, Trelawney fell dramatically to the floor, twitching all the while. 

"That's just great," said Ron Weasley. "At least we got a little variety this time. Should have taken me up on that bet Harry." He good-naturedly elbowed his best friend, who was still staring at the twitching Trelawney on the floor. 

Harry looked up at Ron and sighed. "Actually, I think I would have preferred her usual. The last thing I need is for those rumors to start up again." He looked around the room, only to see that all of his classmates were eagerly watching the scene. "Hermione is not going to like this one bit." 


	2. Lavender

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Two**

Lavender Brown, quite frankly, did not know what to do with herself. 

On one hand, she was genuinely concerned about Professor Trelawney. The professor was such a fragile soul, who had to bear the burden of her great and terrible gift. Lavender was always impressed with how well Professor Trelawney managed to deal with weight of her visions. So it was only natural that she was worried for her beloved professor, who even now was silently convulsing on the floor. 

On the other hand, her inner gossip wanted to crow at the professor's revelation. She knew it! She _just _knew it! Both she and Parvati knew that Hermione Granger was in love with Harry Potter all this time. It was so stunningly obvious that she was surprised that more people had not put two and two together. Or rather put H and H together. 

After all, it was not normal for a girl to have her two best friends be guys. Lavender supposed that there were girls who preferred to associate with guys rather than girls. However, these girls were usually tomboys and whatever else Lavender had to say about Hermione, she was most definitely NOT a tomboy. She didn't even like Quidditch! All in all, she did not act anything like a tomboy. Ginny Weasley acted more like a tomboy, although that was not amazing what with her having six brothers and all. 

Of course, Hermione did not act anything like Lavender's concept of a girl either. She did not take extraordinary pains with her appearance nor was she conversant on the many uses of cosmetics. She almost never could be cajoled into talking about guys. Lavender still remembered how she and Parvati were unable to get Hermione to tell them anything about Krum after the Yule Ball. And if Hermione was reticent about her date, then the word had yet to be invented to describe her silence on the topic of her two_ male_ best friends. Lavender lost count of how many times she and Parvati met with complete and utter failure when it came to getting anything out of Hermione about Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. In fact, they had long ago given up on any further attempts, as Hermione always reacted in one of two ways—either she pulled her curtains close with the excuse that she needed to get up early the next day so that she could study or she left the room with her books with the excuse that she needed to study for such-and-such class. 

Unfortunately for Hermione, unyielding silence is often the best instigator of the most insidious and pervasive of rumors. 

After each time Hermione had fled in retreat, Lavender and Parvati immediately turned to figuring out why she refused to speak. After all, what harm could come if Hermione disclosed to them Harry's favorite color or favorite sweet? The two friends soon came to the same conclusion. Hermione Granger refused to answer any questions about her male friends because she was undoubtedly in love with one of them. And once a person knew that she was in love with one of her friends, it did not take a large leap of faith to conclude that she was in love with Harry Potter. 

If you asked any girl, Lavender thought, simply _any _girl at Hogwarts, who she would prefer to go out with—Harry Potter or Ron Weasley, each and every one of them would tell you that they would prefer to date Harry. After rolling their eyes at such a stupid question, of course. It's not as if Ron Weasley was not attractive in his own right, she pondered, it was merely that he wasn't Harry Potter, who was the most famous wizard in the entire world for practically forever. And while Lavender did not consider Hermione to be a normal girl, she was still enough of a girl to pick Harry over Ron. The fact that Parvati had completely agreed with all of her reasoning only convinced Lavender that she had hit upon the right explanation. And now that Professor Trelawney has such a strong vision of the truth behind the relationship between Harry and Hermione—well, it's putting it mildly to say that Lavender would continue to believe that Hermione Granger was secretly in love with Harry Potter even if Hermione married Ron, Krum, or any other wizard at all. 

While Lavender was completely, absolutely, 100% sure that she had pegged Hermione's feelings, she had no clue at all as to what Harry thought about his female best friend. In Hermione's favor, she was the only girl that Harry paid any attention to at all. Well, if Lavender was to be completely frank, one could frequently catch Harry staring at Cho Chang, but if Lavender had to pick between Hermione and Cho in the Potter Sweepstakes, she would naturally chose the Gryffindor over the Ravenclaw any day. While she was _not_ a big fan of the bookworm, house loyalty does count for something! 

Cutting against Hermione was the fact that no one knew whether Harry realized that she was a girl. It was clear to anyone with eyes that Ron had already figured that out. However, Harry tended to treat Hermione as if she was just one of the guys and there was no clue that he even conceived of her as a girl. So Lavender, as well as Parvati and all the other girls she spoke to on the subject, was clueless as to whether Harry liked Hermione in that way at all. Compounding their confusion was given that Harry was a guy and that guys were known to be a tad daft about their feelings, there was always the possibility that Harry did like Hermione in that way but just had yet to figure it all out. 

It was enough to make _anyone's_ head hurt. 

And it got even worse. Lavender did not know how to feel about a potential Harry-Hermione relationship. Like all girls at Hogwarts, she would jump at the chance to date Harry. If he asked her out, there was no doubt as what her answer would be. Rather, it would not be an answer at all—it would be a series of questions such as when, where do you want to meet, etc. 

Yet Lavender had once confessed to Parvati (and Parvati had totally agreed), that if she herself were not in the running in the Potter Sweepstakes, she would have been completely supporting Hermione getting together with Harry. It would just be so _romantic_, quite literally like out of one of her dreams. The hero falling for his innocent, retiring best friend who had always been supporting him in the background. It was the stuff that romance novels were made out of. Lavender sighed at the thought of it. It was like a fairy-tale come true. 

Suddenly, a hand appeared mere inches away from her face. Startled out of her wistful haze, she pulled back to see just who the hand belonged to. Of course, it belonged to Parvati. 

"Finally," Parvati exhaled in exasperation. "I've been trying to get your attention for ages now." 

"Sorry about that," Lavender apologized. "What is it?" 

"Well, I'll make the obvious remarks till later," Parvati replied, with a knowing smile briefly appearing on her face, "But shouldn't we do something for Professor Trelawney. I mean, she collapsed on the ground and everything." 

"We could try to carry her to Madam Pomfrey," Lavender pondered her suggestion. "But I think we'd most likely wind up dropping her. Maybe one of the boys can take her there?" Both she and Parvati looked expectantly at the guys. 

The guys, being guys, just looked away from the girls and shuffled their feet nervously. 

"Oh, come on," Parvati scolded, "We would do it if we could, but since we wouldn't want to hurt her by dropping her." 

"I don't see why you couldn't do it," remarked Dean Thomas, "As you wouldn't need to carry her since you could just float her to the infirmary." 

"Err—we didn't think of that," Lavender admitted rather sheepishly. "I suppose we could do that." 

"Umm, excuse me." Lavender, Parvati, and the rest of the class turned around to look at Neville Longbottom, who had a very worried look on his face. "I hate to bring this to your attention but class is almost over, and after Divination we have . . ." 

"Potions!" The entire class groaned at the thought. 

"And not just Potions," Ron added, "but Double Potions with the Slytherins." 

"We always have Potions with the Slytherins! If I didn't know better, I'd say that the Dursleys had made a contract with Snape and Malfoy to try and make my life miserable all year round." 

"Lucky for you that they're such Muggles then. If we're late to Potions, Snape is sure to take off scads of points, that nasty git. I say we just leave her here. Hey, don't give me that look!" Ron added in response to the glares sent his way by Lavender and Parvati at his suggestion. "After all, she's a Seer, right? I'm sure she's 'fainted' before and knows how to take care of herself!" 

"And just how is she supposed to take care of herself if she's knocked out cold on the ground!" Lavender glared at all the guys. "Fine! You all can go to Potions while I tell Madam Pomfrey that Professor Trelawney needs her help. I'm sure I can get a pass to class from her!" 

None of the guys contradicted her, but that did not surprise her. Most of them probably thought Divination was a sham! She continued to mumble insults under her breath as she gathered her things to leave for the infirmary. Men! They were good for absolutely nothing! At the moment, Hermione Granger could have Harry Potter as Lavender temporarily wanted nothing to do with the opposite sex.nbsp; 


	3. Draco

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Three**

The patter of running feet sounded loudly from the hall just before the door slammed open. That couldn't be Snape, thought Draco Malfoy as he turned to look at the door. 

Nope, it wasn't. As Draco had expected, Snape was not the one making such an ignominious entrance. It was the rather pretty, blonde Gryffindor who had not come in with all the others from Divination. It was rather too bad that she had made it in time. Snape would have surely taken off several points from Gryffindor, no matter what her excuse, as Slytherin was currently behind in the House Cup. Still, the girl was rather nice to look at. 

However, she wasn't on Draco Malfoy's Girls-to-Date list for three simple reasons: 

1) She was a Gryffindor. 

2) He didn't know if she was a pureblood, mixed blood, or a Mudblood. 

3) She was in Gryffindor. (It was worth repeating twice and besides, he phrased it in different ways). 

The three reasons were all inter-connected naturally. The easiest way to find out what any given witch's heritage was just to ask the witch. For some reason, however, the other Houses at Hogwarts did not take kindly to being asked such questions. Gryffindors were especially sensitive and were likely to be insulted. Not that Draco cared if he insulted a Gryffindor—it was just they were taking insult for all the wrong reasons. It was just another sign of the bastardization of the Wizarding world. 

Draco mentally groaned at the thought. That was the favorite subject of his father's rants—how everything in the Wizarding world was going to hell in a hand basket and how it was all Dumbledore and Potter's fault. Draco did not have any sympathies for Mudbloods, Muggle-lovers, and Potter-worshippers, but listening to his father rant and rave, groan and moan, about the same subject each day over summer was almost enough to make him go over to the other side. At least then he would not have to listen to his father's rants because his father would not bother speaking to him. 

It was almost enough because instead of speaking, his father would be busy applying the Unforgivables to him. 

Draco turned his attention away from the blonde Gryffindor and towards the trio of Gryffindors that he had spent a great deal of time on thinking on how to make their lives as abject and miserable as possible. It wasn't as if he was obsessed with those three or anything like that. They were making a scene, once again, as they always made scenes. Unfortunately, only Snape was willing to call them on it. All of the other professors looked the other way, except in that rare case where the Trio's transgressions were too blatant to ignore. The very thought of such favoritism made Draco sick. Potter-worship amongst his peers was bad enough. Potter-worship amongst the Hogwarts' faculty was downright disgusting. 

He had to stop this train of thought. He could just hear his father now saying, "And that's yet another sign of this world going to hell!" 

He often wondered what his father would do if he interrupted one of his father's many tirades to state that he was already in hell. 

It was really best not to think about that. 

Draco was too far away to see what the Dream Team was talking about, but it seemed like something had happened in Potter and Weasley's last class. Granger was ruthlessly plying them both with questions. Potter was blushing furiously while Weasley was attempting to dodge Granger's questions while calming her down. 

He did not know why Weasley even bothered to try. Weasley had never been able to calm Granger down before and it was a good bet that he would fail in his current endeavor. Draco would advise him just to give up the chase and tell Granger what she wants to know—she would find out one way or the other, anyway, so what was the point in choosing the most painful route? 

Of course, Weasley wouldn't take his advice and would only be incensed that he had bother to give it. Maybe he should yell it across the classroom just to irritate Weasley before class started. 

Or maybe not—it looked like Potter was finally getting his act together and stammering out to Granger just what had happened in their previous class. 

"WHAT?" cried out an irate Hermione Granger. "That old fraud said what!" 

"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger," said Snape as he strode into the room. "For making such a loud and vulgar outburst." 

It was perfect timing, Draco reflected. The only way it could get better was if Granger's lovelorn losers lost points trying to defend her. 

"What? That's not fair. That's not fair at all!" 

"You can't take points off for that—class hadn't even started yet!" 

"That will be an additional five points, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, for questioning a professor's judgment, each." 

That was just like clockwork, Draco reflected. He hated to admit it but the Slytherins were truly blessed to have a head of house like Snape. If it wasn't for Snape, they would not even be in the running for the House Cup as Gryffindor would be very much in the lead. 

That was all the fault of the resident teacher's pet, Granger. It was simply unbelievable how all the other professors literally fell over each other in praising Granger and awarding her points. 

He supposed he should be very thankful that Granger was a Mudblood instead of a pureblood. If she was a pureblood, he could just see his father encouraging him to pursue her. Malfoys married for power and nothing else. If she was a pureblood and in a House other than Gryffindor, Draco would have no choice. He would be doomed. It wasn't as if Granger was a hag. While she was not the prettiest girl in their year, she looked more than decent. However, although she wasn't a hag, she was most definitely a nag. Draco was more than happy to let Potter and Weasley fight over her. 

Of course, if she was a pureblood and his father did approve of her, he would probably lose her to Potter. He always lost to Potter. Quidditch matches had become excruciating as he spent most of each match wondering how he would lose this time. He could just see it now—he chases Granger because of parental demands and Granger runs to Potter. Two years later, he and Weasley appear together on the Wizarding Wireless Network as the main guests on Rita Skeeter Live!—Harry Potter and the Wizards Who Always Lose to Him Special. 

At least he would never have to deal with that. 

Time and again, he wished that Granger would fall for one of her two friends. That would certainly break up their friendship. Well, to be more specific, it would be more likely to do so if Granger fell for Potter. If Granger and Weasley got together, Draco could easily see Potter smiling and wishing his friends the best. Potter might not be so happy inside, but he wouldn't say anything, and that would not be any fun. 

It would be much better, in Draco's eyes, for Granger to fall in love with Potter because Weasley would take it very badly. While Draco did not like Weasley very much, he thought that they did have one thing in common—they both habitually took second place to Potter. Draco in Quidditch matches and the like, while Weasley was seen merely as Potter's sidekick. He could not imagine that Weasley would take it well because he would not take such a situation lightly. No, if any of his friends absconded with the girl he wanted, he would make that friend's life a living nightmare. 

It was not worth putting too much thought into what would happen in such a situation though. It was never going to happen. He doubted that either Potter or Weasley had realized that Granger was a girl. There were some hints that Weasley had begun to notice that there were two types of people in the world and maybe babies don't come from storks. However, there were no hints that Weasley had connected these thoughts with the idea that Granger was different from him and Potter. For Weasley treated her the same as ever in public. If Weasley had noticed Granger in that way then Draco would expect him to start less arguments with Granger and blush more around her. 

Sort of like how Potter was blushing like mad before class started. 

Draco shook his head, trying to clear his mind of such thoughts. It would never happen. It would _never_ happen. No matter how much he would like to see all three of them inconsolable over unrequited love. No matter how ironic and pleasing it would be. No matter how much he would love to see their great friendship shattered because of love. 

It never occurred to Draco that perhaps the Trio's version of friendship was different from the Malfoy version of friendship. 

* * *

**Omake Ni Wa!**   
**Snogging 101**

In Potions no less! 

Harry knew he was blushing but he could not do anything to stop it. He had not wanted to tell Hermione what Trelawney had said. It would only make her upset. However, she somehow knew that something had happened in Divination as soon as he and Ron entered the room. Almost immediately, she started pestering them with questions, asking what exactly had occurred. Her questions left him unable to do anything but think about what Trelawney said and the whole situation just made him blush like nothing else. 

Of course, it was also so very ridiculous. This was Hermione! His best friend, not his girlfriend! Oh, Harry supposed technically that Hermione was a girl and so she was his friend who just happened to be a girl. A very pretty girl, in his own opinion. Who just happened to be the smartest girl he knew. Who was also the kindest, sweetest girl in school. In fact, it was downright amazing that she didn't have a boyfriend! 

That thought stopped Harry cold. Why had he never realized this before! He was such a daft git! 

*** 

Hermione was concerned. While she was not happy over what Trelawney had said, she had to worry at Harry's reaction. Really, facing the rumors again would be bad, but it wouldn't be that bad, would it? 

Certainly not bad enough to justify banging one's head onto the desk over and over again in frustration. 

She couldn't bear to watch him. He would only give himself a concussion and he got enough of those as a Seeker. So she placed both hands around his head and forced him to look up at her. 

"Harry, stop that! There's no reason to do that!" 

"I'm sorry." 

"Sorry for what?" 

"Sorry for not realizing sooner." 

Hermione had every intention of asking him what was it that he had not realized. However, it had become a tad difficult to speak as Harry had thrown all caution to the winds, stood up, and attached his lips to hers. 

Harry was kissing _her_. 

He was _kissing_ her. 

And boy, did he know how to kiss! 

It was at that point that Hermione decided to forget analyzing the situation logically. Instead, she pressed her body close to his, and began to match him, kiss for kiss. 

*** 

The sudden slurping noises behind him startled Ron Weasley. 

He turned around to see a sight he had never, ever wanted to see. 

His two best friends going at it, snogging full steam, in the middle of class. 

Sure, if they wanted to snog, who was he to stop them? Let them have their fun. In public even if that's what they wanted. But please, please, please not with him in a front-row seat. 

He just had to stop them before his innocence was completely lost. 

"Come on, guys! Don't do that here! Get a room!" 

They ignored him. Obviously they were too wrapped up in what they were doing (and Ron did not want to think about everything that they could be doing) to pay any attention to him. 

Snape had no such difficulties heeding Ron's words, although not in a manner Ron would have chosen. 

"Potter! Granger! Stop that disgusting display of affection in my class immediately!" 

Of course they didn't. 

"That's it! That is it! I've had enough of this! One hundred fifty points off Gryffindor—EACH!" 

Ron couldn't ignore that. Forget his best friends snogging—he was happy for them really, and they were perfect for each other. But Snape couldn't take off points like that and Ron was just the wizard to let him know that. 

"You can't do that! You can't just take off three hundred points like that—it's not fair!" 

"Shut up, Weasley. Since when have I ever been fair? Be quiet before I take off points from you." 

"What for? I haven't done anything so you can't take points off me." 

"Haven't done anything? I just know that you were encouraging them." 

"Encouraging them? Why, oh why, would I want to see my best friends swap spit?" 

"Enough! You've been egging them on like Black always did. Fifty points, Mr. Weasley—for aiding and abetting!" 

"Argh! I did not do a thing, you slimy git." Ron pulled out his wand. "Alright then—if you're taking off points for me aiding and abetting, then I'm going to damn well aid and abet. Natkingcolius!" 

With that, music filled the air, to provide a better atmosphere for his friends' activities: 

**L** is for the way you look at me.   
**O** is for the only one I see.   
**V** is very very extra-ordinary.   
**E** is . . . 

**THUMP**> 

"Thump? E's not supposed to be thump?" Ron was genuinely confused. He was positive that he had cast that spell right. He had only seen his father cast it at least a dozen times after Arthur Weasley had found a stack of old Muggle vile-nil. 

"That was Malfoy," said Neville. "He fainted." 

"Malfoy fainted, huh?" Things were beginning to look up for Ron. "That only leaves Snape." Ron turned to the front of the classroom, with the intention of telling Snape off. However, Snape had already moved in front of his desk. 

Snape looked absolutely terrible. He looked like he was having an apoplectic seizure. He was waving his arms about and foaming at the mouth. His mouth was also opening and closing, as if he was attempting to take more points off, but he was unable to form any coherent words in his rage. 

"Excellent. Snape's out of commission as well." Ron looked at the scene around him. 

"Best friends snogging in back of me, Snape raging in front of me," said Ron, throwing a friendly arm around Neville's shoulders. "And you're here stuck in the middle with me." 

"Um Ron—I'm not like that." 

~end omake~ 

*omake—Japanese anime and manga sometimes contain spoofs of themselves after each issue or episode. These spoofs are known as omake.   



	4. Snape

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Four**

When in doubt, blame Potter. Those were five words to live by if you asked Severus Snape. 

Those five words had become his mantra back when he had been a student at Hogwarts. Don't know who hexed him so the back of his robes read, "Kick me, I'm ugly?" Blame Potter. Don't know who transfigured his hair into a thousand tiny snakes? Blame Potter. Don't know who put tadpoles in his pumpkin juice? Blame Potter. 

The tadpole trick had to be the most juvenile prank he ever had the misfortune of coming across. Which was saying a lot, as Severus had to sit through not only seven years of pranks from Potter and his friends, but also seven years of pranks from those awful Weasley twins. 

And if you asked him about the most disappointing prank, Snape would have told you it was the hair-becoming-snakes prank. If he were hexed to look like a medusa, then he damn well would want to be able to turn people to stone with a single glance. 

His first victims would be the obvious choice. What he thought of as the most vicious prank—well, that too would also be the obvious choice. 

If you pressed him, Snape would admit that Potter did not play all of those pranks. Indeed, he rather believed that the tadpole prank was either Black or Pettigrew's fault as Snape had always thought those two were the most childish of the Marauders. But still, if it wasn't Potter who actually thrown the hex, it was a pretty good bet that it was one of his friends. If it wasn't Potter, it was Black. If it wasn't Black, it was Lupin. If it wasn't Lupin, it was Pettigrew. Follow the chain up and every single time, you could blame Potter either for casting the hex or encouraging his friends. 

So, when in doubt, blame Potter. 

Severus had never expected to have to use his mantra after his years at Hogwarts. Yet somehow, here he was, teaching at Hogwarts and teaching Potter's son. 

Being offered the position as Potions Master was one of the most surprising events in his life. It wasn't as if Snape did not have confidence in his ability in mixing potions. He knew he was one of the foremost authorities on the subject in the entire Wizarding world. False modesty, after all, was so unbecoming. 

No, Snape was surprised that Dumbledore would actually offer a Slytherin the job. Dumbledore whose partiality towards Gryffindors was almost legendary amongst Slytherin alumni and their children. Dumbledore who turned a blind eye when Potter's pranks almost killed him. Dumbledore who even now ignored it when the current Potter gang blatantly attempted to break every single rule in the book. 

Dumbledore who gave Snape a teaching position even after he learned of Snape's affiliation with the Death Eaters. It was the most surprising thing. And it had saved his life. 

It was the biggest irony in his life that the two life debts he owed were both to Gryffindors. 

That fact didn't stop him from blaming the current Potter for his miseries though. He was certain that Potter had something to do with Black escaping three years ago. That alone was enough to mitigate any soft feelings Severus might have had for the orphaned boy. If the boy was unwilling to learn from his father's past mistakes, then there was nothing that Severus could do for him. 

That didn't stop him from trying though. 

He knew that Potter didn't trust him. Good. Because he couldn't be trusted. While he would never willingly go back to the Death Eaters, there were ways he could be coerced back into the fold. Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone could be broken. 

Therefore, first lesson for life—trust no one. 

It was most infuriating that even after six years, he had been unable to pound that simple concept into Potter's thick skull. Not even after Potter's third year, when that know-it-all Granger had tattled about his new broom. Not even after Potter's fourth year, when he had a falling out with Weasley over being selected as a champion. 

There were times he felt like giving up. 

But he would never do that. He knew that his colleagues often questioned his harsh teaching methods. He could see the questions behind their eyes. He could see them thinking that it would be better to be more supporting rather than caustic. 

Severus Snape could never do that. It just was not in his nature. It didn't mean that he didn't want the best for his students, although they might not agree on what that was. And he would never give up on any of them. 

Because the one thing he hated most about his school career was that all of his teachers had given up on him. 

He would never give up on any of his students. He would leave that mistake to other professors. Let McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and the rest have the occasional pupil that they despise, that they think is hopeless. He would not give up on any single one of them. Not even Longbottom who had blown up more cauldrons than he cared to count and who was due to destroy another within the week. Not even Potter who was a trusting fool. Not even those gossiping Gryffindors in the back whose lives revolved around boys. 

And who provided an excellent opportunity to take off more points from Gryffindor. Snape still nourished fond hopes of one day taking one hundred points off from Gryffindor in a single class period. 

The other option was to call them on their gossip, ask them to repeat it, and humiliate them in the process. Such humiliation might convince them never to gossip in class again. Snape rather doubted that, but that was not going to stop him from trying to cure them of their bad habits. Especially when there might be an opportunity to take off points after they repeat the gossip anyway. 

"Ms. Brown, Ms. Patil," said Snape, "As whatever you are speaking of is giving you such great amusement, surely you would have no qualms on sharing it with the rest of the class?" The two girls looked momentarily bewildered from which Snape deduced that they had thought he would not notice their conversation. They really should have known better. 

"An answer, please, from either one of you," he continued. "Considering how you have been chattering non-stop from the beginning of class, I find it absolutely astonishing that you now have nothing to say." 

"I don't think you would find what we were talking about interesting, sir." Ms. Patil was the first to find her tongue. 

"Five points, Ms. Patil, for presuming to know what I and the rest of your classmates may find interesting. Answer the question." 

"We were speaking of Divination, sir." 

Snape almost felt bad for taking away the points earlier. Indeed, he had no interest in whatever that old fraud had to say. While Dumbledore may believe her to have some talent, in Snape's opinion, two correct prophecies in the span of almost twenty years indicated luck, not talent and certainly not skill. There was no reason to continue this line of questioning. 

Except he saw Potter blush. He saw Granger put her head down and clench her fists. And he saw Weasley looking sick. 

Perhaps he _was_ interested in what Trelawney had to say after all. 

"Exactly what were you speaking of, in regards to Divination, Ms. Patil? You have the attention of the entire class." 

"Professor Trelawney made a prediction, sir." 

"Professor Trelawney made a prediction? Imagine that. I would have never expected predictions to be made in _Divination_, of all subjects. Five points, Ms. Patil, for stating the obvious and avoiding the question." 

Ms. Patil flushed at his words, and stuttered, seemingly unable to go on out of embarrassment. Fortunately for her, her partner in crime decided to help her out. 

"Professor Trelawney said . . ." Snape turned his attention and gaze to Ms. Brown. She summoned her courage and then blurted out, "She said today was the day that Harry Potter would confess his undying love and devotion for Hermione Granger!" 

That remark set off pandemonium in the classroom. The Slytherins had started snickering at Ms. Brown's revelation. The assorted Gryffindors conferred loudly amongst themselves about the same topic. 

And the two in the middle of all the chaos were bright, bright red. 

While he did enjoy seeing Potter embarrassed, Snape did have to call the class back into order. He did so, utilizing his favorite method. 

"Two points each, Ms. Brown and Ms. Patil, for gossiping about such worthless items in class. I would recommend that the rest of you return your attention to your potions as they are being graded." He glared at the Gryffindors, who soon got the hint. The Slytherins continued to snicker. He let them as he would not take points of his own House if he could avoid it. If their lack of attention had an adverse affect of their grades, however, that was their own fault. 

He should have known that Trelawney made a prediction like that. She always went for the obvious in her foretellings. He put it up to a lack of talent. Since she could not see the future, in order to fool people into believing she had such a gift, she had to make predictions that most people could see coming. A prime example of such were her constant "visions" of Potter's death. Everyone knew that the Dark Lord was after Potter. Out of all the students at Hogwarts, he was the most likely to die. 

It was also obvious that Potter and Granger went well together. Some students may have thought that Weasley and Granger would be the better choice. Such students would undoubtedly equate their constant arguments with deep-seated sexual tension. They did not see those arguments as a sign of a fundamental personality clash. And they did not see that any relationship between Weasley and Granger would end up very badly. A relationship between Potter and Granger, on the other hand, would stand a much better chance of lasting through the years. Simply because Potter and Granger were willing to listen to each other, while all Weasley and Granger did at times was shout at each other. 

However, ruminations upon the possible matches of his students was neither here nor there. What mattered most now was keeping an eye on the class, to prevent any fatal errors. 

If Severus Snape had ever been introduced to the Muggle concept of Murphy's Law, he would have pointed to Neville Longbottom as the ultimate proof of its existence. For no sooner had he started to patrol the classroom, when the accident he had been waiting to happen actually happened. 

"No, Neville! You're not supposed to add the pixie dust till later!" 

"Umm, I already did, Hermione." 

"Everyone duck!" 

That was very good advice, thought Snape as he threw himself under a desk seconds before the explosion occurred. The ability to duck quickly was a requirement for surviving Potions with Longbottom. It was several seconds before Snape could summon the fortitude to examine the extent of the damage. 

Oh dear lord, were Snape's only thoughts as he surveyed the room. The damage was astounding. Longbottom's cauldron was now residing in cauldron-heaven (Snape was convinced that cauldron-hell was being Longbottom's cauldron). It contents had been spewed out across the classroom and into other students' cauldrons, fueling a chain reaction of explosions. There would be no chance to grade anything today. 

Snape closed his eyes and sighed internally. It was days like this that he sympathized with Granger. Trying to keep Longbottom out of danger was a full time job. 

Unfortunately for Granger, no good deed gets left unpunished. 

"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger, for not watching over Mr. Longbottom more carefully. Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Longbottom, for causing this mess." He looked over at them to gauge their reaction. Granger was clenching her fists again and looked like she was biting her tongue. Meanwhile, both Potter and Weasley looked as if they would happily hex him to hell and back. Longbottom, on the other hand, looked dazed. It would be best to send him to the infirmary. 

"Ms. Granger, would you kindly take Mr. Longbottom to the infirmary? Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley will clean up for you both. I would suggest that everyone start cleaning right now." 

His class was too well-trained to ignore those orders. Granger left with Longbottom while the remainder of the class silently cleaned up. When that chore was finished, Snape dismissed the class after giving them an appropriate amount of homework. Perhaps if they spent more time studying the attributes of various potions additives, such accidents could be prevented in the future. 

He rather doubted that. Potions would not be Potions without monthly explosions. He only hoped that the next explosion Longbottom made would not leave such a foul stench in the air. 

Grimacing, Snape stalked out of the classroom. There was no way he could stand breathing in that odor any longer. He had no recourse but to go to the teacher's lounge while the room aired out. 

Still—thirty-nine points in one day. He'd get there someday. 


	5. McGonagall

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. This is just something to pass the time while waiting for the next book. 

**Chapter Five**

The mumblings coming from Severus's corner of the teachers' lounge were most inappropriate. Granted there were days when one's patience was tried to the utmost by some student. Despite that, thought Minerva McGonagall, one could not give in to one's impulses and act without restraint. One had the duty to maintain the proper image in front of the students. 

Minerva sighed and shook her head. The large black dog at her side looked up at her and then went back to glaring at the incensed Potions Master. She supposed there was no real danger of a student entering the lounge. She would not be concerned if most of her fellow professors were unable to control their language on an especially bad day. Severus was a different story. She had substantial doubts about Severus's ability as a teacher. While his proficiency at his chosen art was virtually unrivaled, his methods left much to be desired. He professed rather than taught. The only encouragement he offered his students was an assortment of sarcastic barbs and constant criticisms. He never seemed to consider that one simply could not use the same method for all students. Certainly yelling and screaming at Neville Longbottom did not improve his performance—if any thing, it only made it worse. 

Of course, she rather doubted that his methods were the best for any students. Still, one had to choose one's battles. 

McGonagall also had serious qualms about his extreme favoritism towards his own House. Such favoritism was only natural for a Head of House. She did her best to not to act on such instincts. If her colleagues did not choose to take such measures that was mostly their own business. They only held positions as Head of House and professor. However, Severus took house favoritism to a new level. It was simply ludicrous. Moreover, his attitude towards her own House was most distressing. She understood the reasons why Severus hated the Gryffindors so. James Potter and his friends had never been kind towards the boy. That perhaps had been their greatest fault—not to know when enough was enough, when pranks became too much. She should have stopped it then. She did not want to make the same mistake again. Because she wasn't the one who paid. She could understand his pain. 

Nevertheless, it was nearly twenty years ago. There came a point where you had to let go. You couldn't let a few bad memories get in the way of you making new and better ones. You couldn't let the past get in the way of your future. You couldn't let resentment well-deserved get in the way of you growing into a better person. 

Minerva knew he kept his pain. She knew he nursed his grudge, and added to it all the slights and smirks he received each day. Severus had made remarkable progress, in many ways, since his schoolboy days. But Minerva knew that somewhere, deep down inside of him, was that lonely boy who didn't want to change. 

She sighed again, then pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. There was no undoing of past mistakes. There was nothing she could do for a man who refused her aid. You couldn't live in the past. Sometimes, you had to let go of your losses and look to the future. 

In spite of everything that had happen, she still believed the future was bright. In spite of all the events occurring even in the present, she still thought things would work out. She had her students and she just knew the world would make it through. 

Just thinking of them made her smile. Minerva truly loved working at Hogwarts. She loved the first day of the year and watching the excitement and awe on all the young first years. She made the right choice, on that day so many years ago, when she decided to work here. This was truly the place where she belonged. 

She was truly proud of her students, especially of the current crop. She knew most of her colleagues would never think that much of Neville Longbottom. The boy was a klutz and almost a squib. Still there was no one in his year who tried harder than he. It was almost heartbreaking to watch him work so hard for so little improvement. Anyone else would stop. Anyone else would think the reward was not worth the effort. Neville did not give up. He continued to work for his scraps of achievement, and Minerva rather thought that no one would have expected him to come as far as he had when they saw him on that first day. 

Often seen in his vicinity, for they belonged to the same House, was Ron Weasley. Both Gryffindors, yet so very different. While Neville had the burden of no expectations, Ron had to deal with the burden of all his expectations. It could not be easy to be the youngest of six brothers, particularly when all of your older brothers were outstanding in some way. One could hardly avoid the comparison. Minerva rather thought that Ron was his own worst critic at times. He also did not do himself any favors, by comparing himself with the very best in his brothers and by wishing about, rather than working towards his goals. In spite of the fact that he lived in the shadow of his brothers' achievements, he was truly his own person. It would have been so easy for him to mimic any one of them, yet he stayed true to himself. The same could be said about when he was with his friends. He could have easily stayed in the background and let his friends deal with everything. He didn't do that—he stood by their side. He disagreed with them, when he thought they were wrong. She knew that he would never see this as being enough. However, she had to respect him for while he did not lead, he refused to be blindly led. 

It would be nothing but the truth to say that most people had bad expectations of Draco Malfoy. It came with the name. Lucius Malfoy was known to be a strong supporter of all things dark. While he may not have been convicted as a Death Eater, there were many in the Wizarding community that believed he had been and in fact still served his old master. Bad expectations also came with the House. Minerva knew better than anyone else that Slytherins were expected to be evil, but she also knew that this simply was not true. One need only look at the Slytherin Head of House for proof of that. Like Ron, Draco contributed to his problems. His words and attitudes made everyone believe that he was essentially a Death Eater in training. Yet he was not as cruel and vindictive as he could have been. The poor boy must have known that everyone expected him to turn to the dark. His father literally demanded it. The Gryffindors, much to Minerva's sorrow, were too willing to think the worst of each and every Slytherin, and the other two Houses were not far behind. Despite all of this, Draco had yet to turn. He had not turned and it was a miracle every day. 

Her last two students were victims of great expectations, though from different sources. Harry Potter had those expectations thrust upon him, through no choice of his own. People expected great things from him ever since that fateful Halloween eve. Hermione Granger, on the other hand, created her expectations. People came to expect her to be the best in all subjects because of her constant work. In Minerva's opinion, Hermione was the only one who tried as much as Neville, although her results were vastly superior. 

It was strange, she pondered, how she tended to think of those two students as a pair. At first, she thought it was mere alliteration—Harry and Hermione sounded like they belonged together to her ear. Then she had begun to thought that it was more than that. Those two together were truly something to see. Together, they proved that the whole could be more than the sum of its parts. This was not because they had different strengths, although that was certainly true enough. Rather, it was because one helped the other to grow. One provided the challenge that the other needed to improve—and then went even further and provided the support the other needed to see the way through. While Minerva did not pretend to be the voice of fate as certain other professors did, but she did know that those two belonged together. It was because they were able to grow together. 

That was all she really wished for her students—to become the best people they could be. She did her best to make sure all of her students got that chance, even though it meant repressing her own instincts. It hurt when she saw any of them fail. It hurt even more when she knew her own mistakes caused a fall. Yet it was the best thing in the world when she was able to help a student reach into their inner potential. She loved seeing the adults they became. There was no other place she'd rather be. 


	6. Snuffles

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Six**

If only looks could kill. Oh, if only looks could kill, thought Sirius Black, Snape would have been dead the very moment he entered the room. 

The only drawback to that theory was that he and Snape would have most likely killed each other when they first met. Sirius considered himself generally to be an affable fellow, but there was something about Snape that set his teeth on edge. He just could not stand the _sight _of that slimy greaseball. One look at Snape was enough to set off plans in his head for new pranks. 

He never regretted any of those pranks until three years ago. Then he was faced with Snape's grudge preventing him from getting his revenge. What made it even worse was that the grudge led to Wormtail getting away, thus endangering Harry. Sirius regretted that he had let things go too far in the past. If he had been more restrained, if he had not put Snape's life at risk, perhaps Snape would have been able to put their differences aside for a moment. That moment may have been long enough to convince Snape that he was telling the truth and that Wormtail was the real enemy. If that had happened, perhaps Wormtail would have never been able to escape. 

It was then that Sirius resolved not to let his hatred get the best of him. He still could not stand the sight of Snape. Yet, he could put his disgust aside and work together if need be. 

However, what little Sirius could make out from Snape's incoherent rant did not make him a happy dog. Snape did not enunciate as clearly when he was mad and muttering under his breath, but Sirius could still hear the words "explosion" and "Potter's fault" quite clearly. He rather suspected that Snape was mumbling those word to aggravate him on purpose—Snape's words told him enough to worry about Harry but didn't tell him any specific details about the accident in Potions. It was enough to make Sirius want to start gnawing on Snape's ankles. Except he didn't know when Snape last took a bath. An attempt to bite Snape might wind up poisoning him in the process. 

Sirius found himself growing more anxious with each passing minute. He had to know whether Harry was hurt in the explosion Snape kept mumbling about. He looked up at McGonagall and willed her to question Snape. 

He had no luck. She merely smiled down at him and said, "Don't worry about Snape, Snuffles. I'm sure he means you no harm." 

Sirius almost died of embarrassment when he heard his nickname being used by the stern Transfiguration professor. How did Dumbledore find out about that name? He was eternally grateful for Dumbledore allowing him to hide out at Hogwarts for a couple weeks. He had been getting very tired from being constantly on the run. However, he wished that Dumbledore had used a different name when introducing him to the faculty. It was one thing for Harry and his friends to call him Snuffles. It was quite another for him to hear McGonagall, Hagrid, and the rest of the faculty call him by that name. He firmly resolved that none of them would ever find out about his animagus form if he could help it. 

Such a resolution did nothing for his current dilemma. He had to know if Harry was safe. He would always regret his actions in that fateful year. If he had not come up with his so-called brilliant plan, James and Lily would still be alive. If he had been able to show a touch more restraint, perhaps Wormtail would not have been able to fool everyone into believing that he was a mass murderer. Simply put, if he had only thought before he acted in that year, Harry's life would not be the misery it was now. 

As merely Harry's godfather, Sirius would have felt responsible to watch out for Harry's happiness. The result of all his past mistakes, though, made Sirius absolutely determined to make sure that Harry would be happy, or as happy as possible for anyone who had Voldemort chasing after them. And he rather doubted that it would make Harry happy to be constantly winding up in the infirmary. 

It did not improve Sirius's self-esteem to realize that there was little he could do to keep Harry safe at school. This was especially true as long as Snape held the position of Potions Master. 

Sirius was more than willing to help his godson out in other matters as well. He somewhat suspected that Harry would make a good match with his best friend, Hermione Granger. 

"Somewhat suspected" was putting it mildly. It would be more accurate to say that if he became any more certain about the possibility of a relationship between the two, he would start saving funds for their wedding. 

He had first begun to match them up after they had saved his life three years ago. They had worked so well together and really, it had been so cute when they had shouted at him in unison, no less, to leave. 

Later on, he reconsidered his position. Sirius pondered how much of his feeling that those two belonged together was due to the fact that he saw James and Lily in the two children. Harry most definitely bore an uncanny resemblance to his father. Hermione bore at least a superficial resemblance to Lily, as they were both very clever muggleborn witches. Yet, it would be wrong to attempt to pair up two people merely because they reminded you of another couple. No matter how much a son resembled his father, they were not the same person. Following this reasoning through led Sirius to abandon his thoughts of the two being a perfect match. 

Upon meeting them again, Sirius returned to his original opinion. As far as he was concerned, Harry and Hermione were as good as a couple, no matter how loudly they proclaimed otherwise. If he thought it would help, he would have pointed it out to them that they protested too much. As he knew that would only earn him identical death glares, he kept his mouth shut. He knew what he saw. Those two cared so much about one another—you could see it in the way Hermione fretted during Harry's Quidditch matches and the way Harry would always leap to Hermione's defense. They often knew what was on each other's mind. The number of times he saw them communicate without words had to mean something. Finally, when they were together, they were happier. You could tell by their scent that they were in better spirits when they were by one another. 

All of this would have led Sirius to play matchmaker. However, although he trusted his gut feelings on the matter, he did not trust himself enough to make the right decisions in any matchmaking attempt. If Harry ever asked him for any advice, he would most certainly give it. If asked for help, he would do his best. But until then, he would sit out. Somehow, it would work itself out, with or without his aid. 

Well, it would work out so long as Harry was able to stay alive. Sirius glared at Snape one last time before heading out the door. If he wanted to know if Harry was hurt from the explosion in Potions, he would have to check out the infirmary himself. 

As he walked out of the room, he heard Snape say, "Finally, the mangy mutt has left the room." 

That's it, thought Sirius. The next time Snape takes a bath, his ankles would become doggie treats. 

**Author's note:** That's it for now, but I'm working on the next chapter. I would really like to hear about what you think about this chapter. Please review! 

And thanks to** Seiryuu**, **Noodlejelly**,** rokjai**, **hecuba**, **Jme H**, and **Max** for reviewing! I really appreciate it!   



	7. Pomfrey

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Seven**

Rules were there for a purpose. Especially the rules she set in place. People need peace and quiet in order to get better. Yet somehow, some way, someone always managed to break her rules. Over time, she learned to accept what she could not change. After all, people only disobeyed her out of worry for her patients. She could understand that. She usually let them stay for a few minutes before kicking them out. 

But there are limits! And today, it's like I'm running a menagerie instead of an infirmary, thought Poppy Pomfrey. 

The day had started off normally enough. She sent the two Slytherins who had been injured in Quidditch practice yesterday back to their dorms after making sure that they had completely healed. There had been one young Hufflepuff who had injured his ankle in Care of Magical Creatures. All in all, her day had been going well. 

Unfortunately, today was also the day that the Gryffindors had Potions with the Slytherins. Throughout the years, Poppy had learned all too well that particular combination could be nigh fatal. Her misgivings about that class were only reinforced today when Hermione Granger had come in leading a stunned Neville Longbottom. 

There was an explosion, Ms. Granger had said, and Neville was in the middle of it. Poppy had nodded and quickly examined Mr. Longbottom. By some miracle, the boy was only shocked. The only cure he needed was peace and quiet for a couple hours. Out of habit, she checked Ms. Granger as well. The girl was all right—not even a bit dazed—and Poppy was ready to send her on her way. 

That was when that cat had come in. 

Evidently it was Ms. Granger's cat. She had run up to it and assured it that she was feeling all right. 

Then she did something that Poppy could not approve of. She ran out of the infirmary, saying she was late for Charms. 

But she did not take her cat. 

To be fair, Hermione had told her cat to be good and go home before she left. If it had done so, that would have been the end of it. While Pomfrey did not appreciate animals entering her domain, she could understand that an exceptionally intelligent familiar could be worried about its owner. 

But the cat being a cat had decided to be contrary and insisted upon remaining. And just like a cat, it was impossible to move. It ignored all her threats and pleas, and simply refused to leave. 

But just now, a large black dog had come in. Dumbledore had introduced the dog to the staff as Snuffles. Dogs at Hogwarts were fine, just not within the hospital wing. Especially when there was a cat already residing there, though not with her approval. The ensuing ruckus would not improve the health of anyone—it would more likely just cause additional injury to the convalescing students. Poppy had her limits like everyone else and right now, her patience was at an end. 

At least she knew the dog's name and so could tell it to leave directly. 

"Get out, Snuffles," she said. "This is no place for animals." 

The dog ignored her. Instead, Snuffles looked around as if he owned the place. He caught sight of the cat and went up to it. 

The cat and the dog stared at each other for a while, as if communicating. Finally, the dog shook his head and turned around to leave. Poppy sighed in relief. One out of two down. Now if only she could get the cat to go. 

"I think you've stayed here long enough, don't you?" she said to the cat. "Why don't you be a good kitty and leave?" 

Yet again, the cat ignored her. Poppy decided to give it up. The cat would leave when it felt like it and not a moment before. It wasn't bothering anyone and as long as that continued, she had better things to worry about. 

Such as what she would say to Professor Snape tonight. Potions and Care of Magical Creatures were the two most dangerous classes to her students—the only exception to that rule came a few years back, when that idiot Lockhart had been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. As such, Pomfrey would occasionally rebuke the professors of those two subjects, importuning them to take better care of their students. 

Rubeus Hagrid always reacted to her suggestions rather shamefacedly. He would apologize profusely and promise to watch over his classes more vigilantly. While there were times that Poppy suspected that Hagrid cared more about the welfare of his creatures rather than his students, at least his reaction was satisfactory. 

The same could not be said about Professor Snape. He would listen to her lecture, but look down at her all the while. When she finished, he would merely nod his head at her to indicate that he had heard what she had said. 

If Poppy Pomfrey would accuse Hagrid of caring too much about the wrong things, she would accuse Snape of not caring at all. There was no doubt in her mind which of the two conditions was worse. 

Really, would it hurt Snape at all to structure his lessons differently? Would his students not learn better if they spent less time in the infirmary? She had pointed out these considerations to him many a time, yet nary a difference was to be seen in his teaching style. Students still came to her all to often after being injured by an accident in Potions. 

It frustrated her to no end when she was unable to do her job. The other professors at Hogwarts were all engaged in teaching students a particular subject. She was supposed to keep them well. And she could not keep them well so long as other professors consistently and unashamedly ignored the welfare of the students. 

While she worried about all her students, there were some students she worried more about than others. Hermione Granger and her friends were prime examples of this. The three of them managed to spend an inordinate amount of time in the infirmary. Every year, at least one of them managed to find their way into one of the beds for a significant period of time. She had not kept track of the time they had spent there, but she was willing to bet that if she added everything up, the three of them had spent at least a year in the infirmary. 

She truly did not know what to do about those three. Trouble came looking for Harry Potter and his two friends would not be told to leave. Too many times the end result was all of them wound up being hurt, in one fashion or another. The ones that did not lie in the hospital bed often kept watch over their friends that did. It broke her heart to see children so young keeping a vigil like that. When she threw them out of the infirmary, it was usually more for their own good than for that of their injured friend. 

Yet seeing them together like that was also good for her heart. So long as true friendship like theirs still existed, the dark would not hold sway over this world. 

**Author's note**—Sorry that there's not much H/H in this chapter. If it makes you feel better, I've always thought that chapters six and eight were about the most rabid of H/H supporters. Anyway, I would really like to know what you think about this chapter. Please review! Thanks! 

And for previous reviews:   
**alexz**—Thanks for the review! Am happy to hear you like the fic.   
**equasar**—Thanks so much for the compliments. Currently, this fic is supposed to be sixteen chapters long. One more to go before being half way done. I don't think I'll make it any longer than that. It would get boring if I tried to write about every single character even named in the books.   
**Max**—You always take the time to review my fics. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. =) BTW, I saw your review for _Five Minutes_. Don't you think torture is too strong of a word? It does have a happy ending (hint: first line = end). *sigh* If that's not enough comfort, then let me assure you I'm working on the continuation to Candlelit and it's as fluffy as a bunny. That should make up for any torture. ^_^   



	8. Crookshanks

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Eight**

It was time to leave the infirmary. There was nothing to do here. Meow-nie was fine but had left long ago. The Dog-Man had left as well. Toad-boy was still here, but he was of little interest. And while Crookshanks had gotten some amusement from annoying the Fussy Lady by his mere presence, the entertainment value had long expired. 

Not to mention that it was about time for Meow-nie to return from her classes. If Crookshanks wanted any snacks before she left for the book-palace, he would have to be there when she got back. He could not count on either of Meow-nie's guys to feed him. 

So Crookshanks got up from his resting place and walked out of the sick-place. He heard the Fussy Lady sigh in relief as he left, but his dignity would not allow him to acknowledge her. He had better things to do instead of taking insult, like getting back to his person before she could leave her home again. 

While most people would have referred to Crookshanks as Meow-nie's cat, he did not agree with that construction. Make no mistake that Crookshanks was a cat—well, actually, that wasn't entirely true. However, a cat wasn't a cat without a secret or two and a secret wasn't a secret if you told everyone about it. Crookshanks was enough of a cat to have a secret and keep it well. Yet, while he would not refer to himself as anyone's cat, he was not like the old-school cats who referred to their persons as their slaves and demanded to be waited on hand and foot. Instead, he conceived of Meow-nie as being his person—it made just as much sense as the opposite construction, if not more. After all, a cat could not be kept. 

His person had a rather strange peculiarity. She kept two other persons as pets. Meow-nie's guys, as Crookshanks had heard other people call them, were really lucky to have her watching over them. They would be so lost without her. Crookshanks doubted that they would have lasted long without her. They needed her to make sure they did their lessons. Often, they needed her to make sure they learned their lessons. Crookshanks rather approved of lessons for young people. It meant that later in life they would be able to eat, and more importantly, feed him. Without her, Crookshanks doubted that Meow-nie's guys would be able to feed themselves later in life. Because Meow-nie was his person, he felt obliged in some ways to watch out for her guys. He would not help out with their lessons as she would as that would be too much work, but he would disapprove of them when they didn't do their lessons right. What was the point of lessons if you just made up your answers? You would not learn anything that way. 

Crookshanks tended to refer to Meow-nie's guys as one single unit, as they often got into trouble together. Yet, Meow-nie's two guys were rather different. The Nice Guy wore a funny contraption about his eyes and had black fur, while the Loud Guy was much taller and had red fur. 

Crookshanks liked the Nice Guy. Nice Guy was genuinely kind. What's more was that he never hurt Meow-nie's feelings thoughtlessly. Meow-nie was Crookshanks's person and Crookshanks took special pride in knowing everything about his person. And though Meow-nie often put on a tough façade, inside, she was rather sensitive. She took things a little too seriously at times and so could easily get hurt. Crookshanks approved of Nice Guy because he usually didn't hurt Meow-nie and felt bad when he did. 

Crookshanks could not like Loud Guy as much as he liked Nice Guy. Loud Guy was not as nice. He often said things without thinking and hurt Meow-nie's feelings. What was even worse was that Loud Guy did not even seem to care many times about Meow-nie's feelings. That was just not right. 

Crookshanks still remembered the year when he first began to keep Meow-nie. During most of that year, he thought of Loud Guy as the Mean Guy. Mean Guy made Meow-nie cry so many times that year, all because he believed in that Dirty No Good Rat-Man of his. But Mean Guy did much improve when he was removed from the influence of the Dirty No Good Rat-Man. As Meow-nie insisted on keeping Mean Guy as one of her guys even after all that he had done, Crookshanks was willing to give Mean Guy another chance. Hence, Crookshanks began to refer to Mean Guy as Loud Guy, as he was often very loud. 

Crookshanks was very disappointed when Mean Guy made a brief reappearance the next year. All of the persons were very excited about a "ball." Crookshanks was not exactly sure why they called it a ball, as it was not made out of yarn, but that was the term they used. Both of Meow-nie's guys lost points with Crookshanks for not even considering her as a partner. Crookshanks thought it was obvious that she was the most wonderful girl available (why else would she be his person?) and was displeased that they did not agree. But the Funny Guy (so named because he spoke funny even for a person) had seen Meow-nie's charms and that was the end of that. 

Or rather, that should have been the end of that. Loud Guy decided to take issue with Meow-nie going with Funny Guy. Crookshanks was incensed. Loud Guy had no claim over Meow-nie and she could spend time with whomever she pleased. When Crookshanks took this incident in light of the fact that Loud Guy wanted Meow-nie to get rid of him one year earlier, Crookshanks had a suspicion that Loud Guy was too controlling of Meow-nie. That was not right. Meow-nie could do as she pleased, as long as she listened to his advice. And so far, Meow-nie had been very attentive to his advice. 

So it was not any wonder that Crookshanks preferred Nice Guy to Loud Guy. Quite simply, Nice Guy was nicer to Meow-nie and that meant a lot. Nice Guy cared more about what Meow-nie thought. While Loud Guy usually did not go out of his way to hurt Meow-nie, the number of times he did so accidentally was not amusing. Crookshanks would have to caution Meow-nie should she make the mistake of getting too close to Loud Guy. If she wanted to get closer to one of her two guys, Nice Guy was the infinitely better choice. 

Crookshanks had already walked quite a distance but was still not near Meow-nie's place. If he didn't hurry, he would miss her before she left. Not to mention the fact that he was getting a little tired from all the walking he had already done that day. Crookshanks looked around at the persons in the same place as him. It was time to commandeer a person to provide transportation back to Meow-nie's place. 

**Author's note**—Another short chapter, but I didn't want to make it too long as I doubted that a cat (err—well, let's say cat as Crookshanks refuses to own up to being either half-tiger or half-kneazle) would have too many thoughts on this issue. Crookshanks is more concerned about making sure his person is happy. Anyway, I would like to know what you thought about this chapter. Please leave a review. This might be one of my last chapters for awhile as I'm going on break (meaning my internet access will be getting sketchy) and I would love to come back to a bevy of reviews. Thanks! 

And some comments on prior reviews:   
**Ahyanah**—Eep! I am very sorry to hear about that! I do hope you're feeling better now. *sighs* It is very ironic though that it was a black dog—lucky for you that you don't have to hear Trelawney go on about grims.   
**Kristin**—Well, Snape is good in that he won't give up on his students, but I still think that his methods need improving. I don't think that Neville would learn a thing in Potions if Hermione wasn't there to help him simply because Snape does his best to scare him to death.   
**Linz**—Um, the potions incident never happened in this story. That was just a little spoof of what might happen if they started kissing in potions. And yes! I promise that they will get together in this story. I have this story set at sixteen chapters and at least one of them is wrap-up.   
**Jme H**—Thanks for the compliments. I'm glad to hear you agree with Snuffles. I tend to think of the Sirius chapter as being the one most vehemently H/H (outside of the chapters in the ending sequence, but that's later), while the Crookshanks chapter being the one that's the most vehemently anti-R/H. I'm glad you like the fic.   
**Egon-Starcollecter**—Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I was so worried that no one would agree that Pomfrey wouldn't really think of H/H as a romantic duo. Until they get together, I think that she'll think of them as how she usually sees them—which as you put it, is two parts of a frequently injured trio.   
**Max**—Thank you so much for all the reviews! I hope the fluff in CR made up for the torture of _Five Minutes_.   



	9. Cho

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Nine**

The large orange cat stood in front of her, blocking her way and practically demanding that she give him a lift. 

Cho sighed. The cat was not going to let her go anywhere without taking him with her. She had no choice but to provide transportation for the cat. 

Besides, good luck came to those who could make friends of strange cats. 

Of course, she wasn't sure if good luck would come from her helping the cat out. It wasn't as if she didn't know him at all. She knew perfectly well that the cat belonged to Hermione Granger, resident Gryffindor genius, and was called either Bowlegged or Crookshanks. 

It would probably be best if she figured out his actual name, Cho reflected. Bending down, she called the cat to come over to her. "Come here, Bowlegged." 

The orange cat glared at her, as if to say that she should be smarter than that. She hoped the second option worked. 

"All right then. Come here, Crookshanks." The large cat walked up to her and she picked him up. He started to purr as she looked around to get her bearings. While she did not know exactly where the Gryffindor Common Room was, she could deduce its general location by noting the area that all the Gryffindors returned to after classes were over. Hopefully, she would be able to find someone in that vicinity to hand over her burden. 

Of course, the best thing to do would be to return the cat to its owner. On one hand, Cho was almost positive that Hermione Granger could be found in the library; unfortunately, Madam Pince would throw a very big fit if she tried to bring the cat in. If any professors were in the surrounding area when that happened, the end result would be more likely than not points lost for both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.   
  
Hermione was a smart girl and so Cho was sure that she wouldn't mind if Cho just handed over her cat to another Gryffindor for safekeeping. In any case, she would have no grounds for a complaint as she had just let her cat run loose. 

Cho started walking in what she thought was the right direction. While she didn't mind helping out the cat in need, he was large and rather heavy to hold. 

For some reason, holding the cat made her think about its owner. To this day, most of Ravenclaw was mystified as to why Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor rather their own House. Cho knew that Professor Flitwick, their Head of House, was disappointed that the smartest student he had in Charms for ages came from another House. If Ravenclaw was the House known for its brains and studious habits, then by all rights, Hermione should have been sorted into it. If Gryffindors were known primarily for their bravery, then this was doubly so. Most Ravenclaws thought that Hermione was too sensible to go charging blindly off to face dangers unknown, which seemed to be the primary definition of bravery. 

However, Cho knew that there was more than one type of bravery. There was the courage it took to stand up for those who did not have their own voice. Then there was the courage that it took to wait for your brave friends to come back safe while not going mad. 

The last type of courage was especially rare. It was truly hard to have to wait for someone to come back. Especially when they might not come back at all. However, one needed this courage above all others to be friends with Harry Potter. 

Cho knew that some of her close friends thought she was absolutely mad not to have gone out with the poor boy. It was true that from what she knew of him, she liked Harry very much, but just not in that way. His first strike was the fact that he was younger than her. While in time, one year's difference may not mean all much, Cho had always expected to date older men, particularly because guys were infamous for maturing at a slower rate. 

The second strike against Harry was the memory of Cedric. Cho did not blame Harry for Cedric's death, although that had been her instinctive reaction. If Harry could save himself from You-Know-Who, why could he have not done the same for Cedric? But that was not being fair at all. Harry had been the youngest of the champions and the least well prepared out of them all. His survival seemed to be luck more than anything else. Still, it would be very hard to have any type of relationship at all with Harry after Cedric's death. 

Finally, the third and final strike against Harry was the simple fact that he was Harry Potter. He was the Boy Who Lived and was destined to fight You-Know-Who again and again till at least one of them was no more. 

Cho didn't think that she had the strength to wait for a person she loved and cared for to come back from fighting the darkness. She had a hard enough time getting over Cedric's death and she didn't think she could go through that again. But above all else, the waiting was the worst. Still, she was thankful for the time she was able to share with him. If it was hard getting over his death, it would have been harder to do so if she had never acted on her feelings. At least she had gotten to tell him how she felt before he left her—she would have regretted it always if she had not done so. 

She had meant to talk to Hermione Granger about that for the longest time now. 

Whenever the rumors of a relationship between Harry and Hermione resurfaced, both parties vigorously protested them. To Cho's eye, they both protested far too much. She suspected that Hermione had feelings for her friend and was aware of them. She wanted to encourage Hermione to act. 

It was always hard to tell someone that you liked them, particularly when you did not know if that feeling was reciprocated or if the mere act of telling would tarnish a beautiful friendship. Privately, Cho was of the opinion that the bonds between the Trio were strong enough to weather such a confession. 

As a girl who knew what it was like to love and lose, she knew that it was better to have let someone know that you loved them before losing them forever. She would always be grateful that she didn't have to take a chance on a confession. However, given her experiences with love, she would almost always recommend a girl coming clean to her crush, so long as there was some hope of the feeling being reciprocated. It was better to know that it wasn't than to wonder about it forever. 

Thus, she had been meaning to speak with Hermione. That girl cared so much about her rumored boyfriend that it was infinitely suspicious. While Cho did believe that it was possible to have an extremely close platonic relationship, the bond between the two Gryffindors seemed to go deeper than that. But no one would ever know the truth if neither party was willing to confront the possibility of what may be. 

A flash of red hair distracted Cho from her thoughts. While most of the Weasleys had already graduated from Hogwarts, it was still a good bet that red hair near the Gryffindor Common Room meant a Weasley was also near. She made towards the redhead with the intention of handing over her burden. 

Cho made another mental note to herself. When she got around to having that chat with Hermione, she would also recommend that she feed her cat less. 

**Author's note:** Finally, another chapter is completed. I'm sorry it took so long, but I've noticed in fan fiction, Cho's character is usually much maligned. While I don't think that there's too much basis for that in canon, I did briefly play with a "Three Faces of Cho" idea. But that idea is best put to other uses. Besides, she really does seem to be a nice girl (well, so far at least). 

In any case, I hope everyone can tell that this is beginning to wind to a conclusion. In any case, please review and let me know what you think. 

And to respond to a few prior reviews:   
**hecuba**—I'm glad that you liked the Crookshanks viewpoint. It was a lot of fun to write as well. ^_^   
**Lunarian**, **Heaven**,** kazster**, **KMH**, **Noodlejelly**, U**tter Inzanity**, **fluffybun**, **GundamAylith** and **artificially flavoured**—Am very happy to hear that you liked the chapter and the nicknames. It took me awhile to settle on them.   
**Ryoko Blue**—Yes, I do plan viewpoints for both the H's. I hope you can see that I'm getting there.   
**Jme H**—Thank you so much for reading all of my fics and leaving the nicest reviews. I really can't say how much I appreciate it.   
**Max**—Look! It's finally here—really sorry that it took me so long to update.   
**hermioneharry4ever**—Nice pen name there. ^_^ Originally, Krum's name was funny talking guy, but I decided to shorten it. If I had to think of a name for the twins, right now it would be the Original Pranksters.   
**Seiryuu**—I think I'm beginning to regret having 16 chapters. *sigh* Might cut out the last chapter, which is an epilogue really. Am glad you are looking forward to the other chapters though.   
**Nappa**—Please promise me you'll review the Ron chapter. ^_^ Am very interested in your response since you don't seem to like the boy.   
**Animagus-Steph**—Eep! I had to read chapter six over again to see what you mean since I did remember that fact (mainly b/c was surprised when read it). But after re-reading—eep! I most definitely did give that impression, didn't I! I've always seen Snape and Sirius as having a loathe-at-first-sight relationship, and so if they had to work on the same side, they would make all the snide comments they could possibly make. Unfortunately, I wasn't careful enough in laying that out. Am really really sorry about that. Anyway, have tinkered with the chapter so hopefully it's better now. Thank you so much for the catch and if you have any further comments about that chapter (or any others), they would be most welcomed.   
And I must say I agree with you emphatically over any nickname for Hermione. I hate the Herm variant—but for me that's because it reminds me of the word hermaphrodite. I think I can safely promise you that I will never use that nickname.   



	10. Ginny

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Ten**

Ginny sighed as she took Crookshanks from the Ravenclaw Seeker. The cat would pass from the girl who the Boy Who Lived liked to the girl who he ignored to finally reach the girl he was always with. 

She would have given almost anything to switch places with either Cho Chang or Hermione Granger. 

Ginny knew it was just a crush. She had been told over and over again that her feelings for Harry Potter was just puppy love. 

That didn't make it hurt any less. Especially since he tended to ignore her so completely. If he had paid any attention to her, if he had shown any interest in her, perhaps it would have been easier to get over her feelings of first love. As it was, he was not interested in her at all and it just hurt so much. 

It was funny how a single wound to the heart could hurt all over and for so long. 

She was also unlucky in her choice of crushes. If she had chosen anyone else, then she might have been able to easily find faults and so get over her feelings in that way. Quite a few of her year-mates had liked Draco Malfoy when they first arrived at Hogwarts. Yet his general nasty disposition and foul temper quickly led those classmates to reconsider what they thought of him. Any tender feelings that remained were quickly squashed after the Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match in their second year where Malfoy had cheated in the most blatant of fashions. 

Her year-mates were lucky. She had fallen for the boy who saved her life in her very first year. She knew he had faults, but when compared to those of others, they really didn't seem significant. She couldn't use the classical method of getting over one's first love by listing ways that love wasn't good enough for her. Whenever she tried that, she couldn't think of anyone good enough for him. 

She sighed again. Dwelling over her crush did no one any good. As time passed, she had gotten better. When she had first come to Hogwarts, she could hardly look at Harry without blushing. Now she could look without blushing and even hold a decent conversation with him, whenever he bothered to take notice of her, although those times were few and far between. Her feelings were fading and slowly the pain of having one's first crush denied was slowly going away as well. 

While falling for Harry was not one of the brightest things she had ever done, she would always be grateful that she had been able to get closer to Hermione. Being the only girl in a family with six boys was not easy. While her youngest brother, Ron, might have whinged about being compared to their other brothers, he was lucky when compared with her. At least he had never been lonely amongst their great, big family. Ginny remembered all too painfully the times when her oldest brothers were inaccessible, her younger brothers had decided that girls were no fun to play with, and Percy was being, well, Percy. She knew her parents loved her and tried to make time for her, but her dad was always busy with one Muggle artifact or another, while her mum was overworked with trying to keep the twins in line. Growing up at the Burrow had been terribly lonely at times despite the house always being full. 

It had been very strange indeed to come to Hogwarts and be living with girls, instead of one's brothers. 

Ginny had been totally unprepared for such a change. Her roommates were nice enough, but all too often cruel in those ways that females can be to each other. They had encouraged her to send that awful valentine—even said that the bit of rhyme she had created was the most romantic thing ever. She should have known better but she was too used to her family watching out for her. Neither her brothers nor her parents would have given her such disastrous advice. Her younger brothers would have probably laughed at her, while her older brothers would have been more subtle and understanding. Her dad would have given her mum a look and her mum would have then helped her make a better valentine after a short talk. Not one of them would have set her up for such a heart-wrenching fall. 

She had never felt very close to her roommates after that. It was better to hang around the boys of her year or around her brothers until she was told to leave than to give them another chance to hurt her. 

Getting close to Hermione had taught her that having female friends could be a wonderful thing. You just had to be careful about who you chose to confide to. Hermione had been much wiser than she in that regard. During one of their first long talks, Hermione had confessed that she would never tell anything important to either Lavender or Parvati. Telling one of them about your crush or something similarly personal would only be broadcasted around school the very same day. Of course, Hermione had also told Ginny at the same time not to worry about making those mistakes in her first year. After all, Hermione had been around girls before and knew what she had to watch out for, while Ginny was too used to her brothers. 

Looking back, becoming closer friends with Hermione was one of the best choices she had made. You could trust Hermione. If you told Hermione a secret, she would keep it a secret. If you asked for her help, she would genuinely help you and look out for your best interests. Simply put, she did everything a loyal friend should do. She wasn't faultless. Ginny thought Hermione was a tad too obsessed with schoolwork. While Hermione was very perceptive about others' feelings and indeed cared about what others felt, she could have an astonishing lack of tact at times. Sports didn't interest her at all, much to Ginny's dismay, and she could be a bit of a wimp when it came to things like heights. Finally, and currently not the least of all, she fed her cat too much. Ginny was rapidly getting tired of lugging Crookshanks around. 

Despite all of her shortcomings, Hermione was still the best girl that she knew. If anyone could come close to deserving Harry, it would be her. And fortunately, she had finally reached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. 

It was not a moment too soon for the sake of her arms. 

**Author's note:** I always felt sorry for Ginny. First crushes are hard to get over, especially when you chose someone whose such a great person. The poor girl must have been humiliated at the valentine incident though and I thought it was bad that her brothers weren't more supportive. I know that I wouldn't go around singing those verses if my little sister embarrassed herself like that. With that being said, I don't feel sorry enough for Ginny to actually pair her with Harry. It was a crush after all and we eventually get over them. She doesn't really know Harry but rather seems to still put him up on a bit of a pedestal. 

Finally, a big thank you goes out to everyone who reviewed the last chapters. I truly do appreciate it. As always, please let me know about any comments or criticisms you may have by leaving a review. Thanks!   



	11. Ron

**Just Friends?**   
Disclaimer: I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.   
  


**Chapter Eleven**

"She's not here," Ron said. "She and Neville went to the library to study." He stared resolutely at his sister, refusing to spare a glance at the ginger cat cradled in her arms. 

Ginny frowned slightly at him. "I think Crookshanks is hungry," she stated. 

"Well, you just missed her and I don't know where she keeps that cat's food," Ron responded unsympathetically. "That cat can stand to lose a bit of weight anyway. Hermione feeds him too much." 

That comment of his grew glares from both Ginny and that cat. "Well, I don't see how you can say anything about anyone else eating too much considering how much you consume every night," she retorted. "And if you excuse me, I think I know where Hermione keeps Crookshanks' food in her room and so I am going to feed the poor thing." She flounced off in the direction of the girl's dormitories, not giving her recalcitrant brother a second glance. The cat, however, continued to glare at Ron until he was out of sight and Ron had to suppress the urge to accuse the cat of trying to curse him. Cats couldn't do such things. 

Of course, if any cat could cast a hex, that cat would be Crookshanks. 

Ron didn't think that he and Crookshanks would ever be on the best of terms with each other. He swore that the cat remembered all too well the events of his third year. Lately, he fancied that Crookshanks had become colder towards him. That cat certainly had a way of putting a damper on his wooing of Hermione. Every time he tried to get a little closer to her, that cat would find some way of interfering. 

It was those times that Ron wished that the cat would tolerate him like he tolerated Harry. If Harry was trying to go after Hermione, Ron thought that Crookshanks was more likely to help him, rather than hinder him. He was lucky that Harry was too dense to see what a great girl Hermione was. 

Ron quickly shook his head. He didn't want to pursue that line of thought. There were times when he wondered if his best friends really had something between them. He tried to shake those thoughts by arguing to himself that the only reason why he was suspicious was because of those pervasive rumors. That was usually sufficient to calm him down. Yet, there were some times when that wasn't enough and he feared that he wasn't just paranoid – that there was some morsel of truth behind those rumors that wouldn't just go away. His best friends tended to avoid him during such times, as he would get very snippy and in general, would not be a pleasant person to be around. That only exacerbated the problem, as he would see them running off together, leaving him behind. Fortunately, he had always been able to shake those terrible thoughts and his friends would return to his side as soon as he returned to normal. 

He didn't know what he would do if they ever left him behind for good. 

In any case, lingering over such doubts served no purpose. What Ron wished he could do was to ask one of his friends directly whether they were in love with each other. Asking such a question of Hermione was not an option. Hermione had not liked either of her male friends prying into her love life during their fourth year and she remained unappreciative of any questions they had about her current crush. All Ron knew was that there was definitely someone at Hogwarts that she liked and by her refusal to speak, he was willing to bet that it was either Harry or himself or at least someone in Gryffindor. That was what Ron hoped for at least; he didn't know what he would do if she liked someone in Slytherin. He would probably wind up blowing a gasket and getting her and her cat very angry at him. 

That left Ron with the option of confronting Harry about the Hermione question. Ron had tried to do this before but Harry was always so dense when asked about Hermione. If Ron did not know better, he would have thought that Harry had yet to notice that Hermione was a girl. 

And that was simply impossible. Anyone with eyes had to realize by now that Hermione was a girl, especially with the way she had grown over the last couple of years. Of course, now that he thought of it, Harry didn't have perfect eyesight and maybe he needed his glasses adjusted. Ron remembered how Percy was always bumping into things at home, one year, before they were finally able to afford new glasses for him. Ron didn't think that the Muggles Harry lived with would ever get him anything. Perhaps there was a spell to fix Harry's glasses and then Ron could ask him about Hermione and get a real answer. 

The only problem was that Ron did not know of any charms to fix Harry's glasses. He would have to ask Hermione and Hermione was currently not here. Ron didn't want to wait for an answer. 

So seeing as the Common Room was currently empty, Ron decided to try once again to find out how Harry really felt about Hermione but from a different angle this time. "Mind if I ask you a question, Harry?" he said. 

Harry faced him with a sigh. "If this is about whether I like Hermione again . . ." he began. 

"I know, I know. You're just friends. I just wanted to make sure you don't mind what Hermione's saying." 

"Er – what _is_ Hermione saying?" 

"Oh the usual. That she doesn't like you like that, that you're just friends, nothing more." Ron had his answer as soon as those words left his mouth. It was only for a moment but he saw a glint of sadness in Harry's eyes. There were some who would say that he was dense; there were some who would say that he had no clue what others were feeling. However, Ron had known Harry for six years now and he had learned to look for the clues that told how Harry was feeling – and right now, his best friend was feeling disappointed and sad. 

"That's only the truth," Harry quickly replied. 

Ron ignored that response as he had his answer and walked over to the nearest chair to sit down. Knowing that Harry liked Hermione too wasn't the relief that he thought it would be. A minute before, he would have said that knowing would be better than endlessly wondering how Harry felt about their other best friend. He knew better now. He didn't want to compete with Harry for anything, not only because they were such good friends, but because he was sure to lose as well. 

And when he thought about it, he had already lost. To his mind, Hermione all too obviously liked Harry. Harry was the one she was always asking after in her letters. Harry was the one she was always worrying about, though Ron often got in trouble along with Harry. Harry was the one who made her eyes light up when she saw him. Ron was only a mere friend to her. 

"Is anything the matter?" Ron heard Harry ask him. 

He countered with a question of his own. "So when are you going to tell her?" 

"Tell who what?" 

"Tell Hermione that you like her," Ron said brusquely. 

"How many times do I have to say that I don't like her—" 

"Like that, yes I've heard it before. And it's not true. You do like her. If you didn't, you wouldn't care what she was saying about all the rumors." 

"And I don't care – well, I don't care all that much. I mean, it's her life and I wish—" 

"That she would say she likes you first to save you the heartache?" Ron glared at his best friend. "You know, it's bad enough knowing that the girl I like, likes someone else. It's bad enough to know that she likes my best friend. But to know that my best friend is a prat who's too scared to say anything to her – that's worst of all." 

"Hermione and I are just friends," Harry said through clenched teeth. 

"Don't be daft. You're not fooling anyone with that act, least of all me. You would very much like to snog Hermione senseless, wouldn't you?" Harry opened his mouth to deny that accusation but Ron waved him quiet. "If it was anyone else, I wouldn't give up like this," Ron said quietly. "But as you're my best friend and she's my best friend too . . . well, you better make each other happy. And if you make her cry, you'll answer to me. It's only right I look after her, considering she has no brother to do that for her." 

Silence reigned between them for several moments. Then Harry meekly asked, "You don't mind?" 

"Of course not," Ron lied. "But I'm not the one I think you should be talking to right now." 

"Yeah well, I'm sure that Hermione—" 

"And I'm positive she does. And besides, you're a Gryffindor. You're supposed to be brave. You've faced worse things than telling Hermione how you feel." 

Harry looked as if he wanted to argue the point but then thought the better of it. "I think I'll see how Hermione is doing in the library," he said, waiting to see Ron's reaction. 

"Good luck," Ron told him and with that, Harry headed off towards the library. Once Harry had left, Ron rubbed away at the tears that had filled his eyes. It wasn't the end of the world. Just because Hermione liked Harry right now didn't mean that she would like him always. He might have a chance eventually and even if he didn't, he would find someone else to love. 

Ron could convince his mind of the truth of those words but he couldn't quite convince his heart.   
  
  
  


**Author's note: ** It has been a long time since I last updated this fic, hasn't it? Anyway, I would say that I plan to finish this fic sooner rather than later except that it's already quite late so I'll just say instead that I do intend to finish this fic, especially seeing as how close I am to the end. In any case, I would love to know what you thought, good or bad, so please leave a review.   



	12. Harry

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc.****

**Chapter Twelve**

Harry paused in front of the stairs leading down from Gryffindor Tower to the rest of the school and shook his head. That conversation didn't go as he had imagined it. Harry started walking towards the library while replaying the events of the last hour in his mind. 

This last year, Ron would at times get it into his head that he and Hermione had something going on between them and Harry would take it upon himself to deny everything. At first, it had been very easy to do so for there was nothing between them and Harry was fine with that. He couldn't quite pinpoint when he started to feel differently. Yet there came a time, not too long ago, when thinking that they were merely friends and would never be anything more was almost physically painful. He knew that the brave thing to do would just be to tell Hermione how he felt about her . . . but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. 

For telling Hermione that he fancied her might hurt not one but both of his best friends. If Hermione didn't return his feelings – and Harry had no reason to believe that she did – then she would be upset at having to refuse him. At least he hoped that she would refuse him if she didn't think of him like that. Harry hoped that Hermione wouldn't go out with him just out of pity or some other reason like that. He didn't think that she would; it wouldn't be very much like Hermione to lead a person on like that, even in kindness. Yet he couldn't erase that possibility from his mind. 

There was Ron to consider as well. It was blazingly obvious to anyone with eyes that Ron was more than fond of Hermione. They had the most outstanding rows at times and would bicker almost constantly. Ron, however, was never very good at concealing his feelings (outside of a game of chess) and it had been written all over his face just how much he thought of Hermione, especially during those quiet moments in the library when they weren't fighting for once. Additionally, Ron was ever so jealous whenever Hermione even looked at another wizard. Harry still remembered their fourth year and how enraged Ron had been during the Yule Ball when Hermione was dancing with Viktor. He remembered Ron's reaction last year to the news that Hermione was spending a Hogsmeade weekend with Terry Boot, who was by all accounts a very nice Ravenclaw. That didn't matter to Ron, however. He spent the entire week before warning Hermione of possible ulterior motives that Boot might have. If Harry ever confessed his feelings to Hermione . . . and if Ron should catch wind of it, Ron would be terribly hurt. 

Or at least that was what Harry had thought would happen. He had thought that Ron would say something to him about Hermione because of the rumors that silly bint Trelawney had started again (and Harry had privately made a note to himself at the time to ask the Weasley twins for any . . . gifts they would recommend for a Divination professor with an overactive imagination). His skill in telling the future ran true to that extent; Ron did speak with him later in the day. On the other hand, he would have never expected what happened. Ron practically threw Harry out the door with the instructions to find Hermione and tell her everything. Anyone saying that Ron wasn't a true friend would have a very mad Harry Potter in their face. That took a lot – to give up your feelings about a girl just because you thought that your friend liked her and that she liked him in return. Harry wasn't sure if he would have been able to do that with the grace Ron had. He would say that he could only hope that if he was ever in that situation, he would do the same but that wouldn't be the truth. The truth was that he hoped that Hermione returned his feelings and that would be that. 

Of course, now that he knew that telling Hermione wouldn't lose him both of his best friends, Harry was faced with the frightening task of actually telling Hermione that he fancied her. He had not a clue what he would say. He remembered how easy Fred had made it look, in their fourth year, just asking Angelina to the dance like that. Asking Cho . . . looking back, Harry supposed he was lucky that it hadn't gone too badly. Certainly Ron had a worse time than he. But it wasn't an easy thing to do, going up to a girl and telling her you thought she was pretty, smart, kind, and everything good you could think of, and that you'd be bouncing off the walls if she agreed to go on a date with you – even if that girl was Hermione. Especially if that girl was Hermione. 

Hermione wasn't too good to be real; she _was_ real. Harry had dated other girls before but they all seemed a bit lacking to him. They all seemed too concerned with his scar, and making sure they looked their best, and all sorts of other things that he didn't think was important. While he couldn't agree with Hermione's obsession with studying (and without a doubt, she didn't understand his obsession with Quidditch), he thought she was better than any other girl he had met. With Hermione, you knew where you stood. You knew how she looked and that she'd look more or less the same in the mornings (Harry had been traumatized at how Lavender and Parvati looked in the mornings, one day when had barged in the girls dormitory to speak with Hermione). You knew that her hair was bushy, but she looked charming whenever she put it up. You knew her teeth were straight but sometimes she hid them when she smiled out of habit. You knew she would be concerned with getting good marks – but always more concerned with keeping you safe and that if she made a promise, she'd do her very best and more to keep it. Harry knew she wasn't perfect but he thought she came very close. 

Maybe the prospect of telling her wouldn't be so bad if Harry didn't know what she'd see in him. Yet he feared that she'd take one look at him – and only see her best friend, whom she had known since she was eleven. She'd see him as a scrawny, little boy and not as a young wizard who she might be interested in. She might not laugh at him – Harry couldn't see Hermione laughing at anyone who asked her out, not even Malfoy – but a no was still a no. If she refused him, Harry didn't know how he'd go about changing her mind about him or if he should even try. 

Faced with the door of the library and knowing who would be in there made Harry paused again. He didn't want to go forward. Yes, he would love to know how Hermione felt but it was frightening to think of all the possible reactions she could have. It was only then when Harry realized just what Ron had done. Ron had made it impossible for Harry to go back. Harry couldn't return and tell Ron that he hadn't the courage to tell Hermione. Not when Ron had given her up like he had. Not when Ron had told Harry that he thought Hermione liked him like he did. He had no choice but to go forward and hope for the best. 

Summoning all the courage he had in him, Harry opened the door and walked through to find Hermione.   
  


**Author's note: **Bleh. It's been a long time between updates again. There were a few sentence fragments and the like in this one, used mainly to highlight how confused Harry's thoughts are. And with any luck, I ought to have the next chapter (chapter thirteen, now isn't that ominous?) up by next Friday. As always, I'd love to hear what you think so please leave a review.   



	13. Neville

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer: **I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Thirteen**

The door of the library swung open and shut, distracting him from his work. He quickly looked up to see Harry Potter enter the library, seemingly searching for someone there. Neville Longbottom might not have been the cleverest wizard at Hogwarts by a long shot, but he knew perfectly well that Harry was looking for Hermione. 

Thinking of Hermione automatically made him look at her. She was still deeply engrossed in her History of Magic essay that was already several feet longer that it need be. Hermione had been fuming when she first came into the library, ostensibly to help him with his homework, though she hid it well. Only someone who knew each and every one of Hermione's moods would be able to tell just how angry she was. Neville wasn't known at Hogwarts for his brilliant memory, but when it came to Hermione, he somehow managed to remember everything about her. She had calmed down over time, her work helping her to regain her focus and calm in this instance. He only had to glance at her essay to tell the difference in her moods. The handwriting at the beginning was quicker and less graceful than was her norm, while her handwriting now was very neat and precise. 

_It's not fair_, he thought to himself as Harry caught sight of them and started to head their way. And it wasn't fair. It had been him who had noticed Hermione first of all the boys at Hogwarts; he liked her even when no one else had. Yet he was the last wizard who she would have thought of in a romantic manner. If life were fair, he would at least have had a chance with her. After all, he was her very first friend at Hogwarts. The others had thought her annoying and had called her a bookworm (and some of them still did), not recognizing the kindness that lay beneath her sometimes blunt manner. He had not hung around Hermione simply because he needed her help, though without her help he would have never made it through his first year, but because she was the only one who seemed to care about him, to think of him as more than just the slow boy. His yearmates – they tended still only to think of him when he was in trouble, especially when the Slytherins had caused that trouble. Hermione was never like that though. She even looked out for him when she became friends with Harry and Ron – and that was something he had not expected of anyone. 

So when the Yule Ball had been announced during their fourth year, Neville knew that he wanted to go with Hermione. Fortunately, his gram had not only allowed him to stay there for the holidays, she required him to stay there and be in attendance at the ball with a suitable date so that he would uphold the family name. The only thing was – he had asked Hermione too late. Some other wizard had asked her first and she had agreed. He had consoled himself for awhile with the thought that Hermione would have said yes if he had been the first to ask but as it was, he couldn't expect her to break her promise to that unnamed wizard. Then came the Yule Ball and he had to see her, floating in on the arm of Viktor Krum. 

That was when Neville knew that he was never in the running. He never had a chance, no matter that she was the only girl that he had really paid attention to. It was a sad love, he supposed, the poor slow boy latching onto the only girl who had ever smiled at him. He should have never been surprised at the way his story had turned out, considering how the rest of his life was. Of course, the girl he liked was surrounded by wizards brighter and more powerful than he. Of course, those wizards one by one saw her charms – and set about doing something about it. Of course, things hadn't turned out how he had wanted them to. 

Of them all, Neville had thought the best of Viktor Krum when it came to Hermione. Yes, Krum might be a bit too old for her but then Hermione acted older than she actually was. And at least Krum saw straight off just how good Hermione was, something that no one aside from Neville had done. As for Hermione's closest friends, thinking of either of them with Hermione was a bit frustrating. Though Ron had been the first of the two to see that Hermione was a girl, Neville didn't think he was right for Hermione. He didn't think Hermione would be happy with him, for Ron didn't think of Hermione enough – and thought too often on how he could improve her. Ron didn't accept Hermione like he did and it drove Neville mad to think that Hermione might pick Ron despite the fact they always argued. 

As for the idea of Harry with Hermione – when Neville first heard about the rumors of them being together, he didn't know what to think. On one hand, he liked Harry perfectly well. Harry was nice and didn't have an ego like Neville thought the Boy Who Lived would. When it came to Hermione, Harry would probably be the better match for her, as he never argued with Hermione like Ron did and he seemed to respect her more, even though she was know-it-all bookworm at times. But Harry had been rather oblivious to Hermione at times. He noticed once during fourth year that Hermione was a witch and a witch who was more than just slightly pretty but after that – there was nothing. Privately, Neville wondered at times if Harry wasn't paying attention to that aspect of Hermione because he didn't know how to deal with it. But that didn't matter in the end. What did matter was that out of all the wizards that surrounded her, Hermione always paid the most attention to Harry. It wasn't him, Ron, or Krum – it was Harry, always and ever, that was foremost on her mind. 

Neville knew when Hermione was thinking of Harry. She would bite her lip, her jaw would clench, and she would just looked worried and rather . . . harried, in a way she never looked when Harry was fine. Neville knew all her moods, he had committed them painstakingly to memory, and there were so many that were connected to Harry. He might not like it if Harry didn't pay attention to Hermione the way she deserved but if it made Hermione happy . . . then he'd have to live with her choice for he loved her and could do naught else. He had thought for a time that Harry would never wake up and deal with his feelings about Hermione. He had thought for a time that Hermione would give Ron a chance, when ignored by Harry, just like she did with Krum . . . and just like with Krum, that relationship would fail. Then he might stand a chance and if she ever gave him that chance, he knew he would succeed. He had not failed once while Hermione was at his side and if she agreed to give him a chance at her heart, he knew he wouldn't let himself fail at that.   
  
That dream started to die the moment he saw Harry come through that door, and now that Harry was at their table, that dream was almost dead. 

"Hi Hermione, hi Neville," Harry said by way of greeting. 

Hermione looked up sharply at him. "Harry!" she hissed. "Be quiet. You're going to get us kicked out." 

"Oh . . . sorry about that," Harry apologized. He took the seat right next to Hermione. "Can I talk to you right now? It's very important." 

Harry looked as if he were frightened of Hermione. Neville shook his head quickly. That couldn't be the case. Harry had nothing to fear from Hermione and everyone knew it. However, his shaking his head like that attracted the attention of both Harry and Hermione. 

"Um . . . I'd really like to talk to you alone Hermione," Harry started. "So if Neville doesn't mind . . ." 

"Neville, would you mind leaving us alone for a bit?" Hermione asked him directly. "I'm sorry. I promise to help you later—" 

"It's fine." Neville got up and started collecting his books. "I ought to try and do this assignment on my own first anyway." With that, he walked out of the library and left his dream behind.   
  
  
  
  


**Author's note:** As always, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter – and so I'd very much appreciate it if you could leave a review. Thanks! 

**Brian:** So I updated chapter thirteen early. This of course means that I feel free now to take my time with the next chapter. ^__^ 

Also thanks goes out to **Milkyway** and** M-3342** for their reviews of the last chapter. I really appreciated them both. ^_^   



	14. Hermione

**Just Friends?**   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own HP or any of these characters. That belongs to JKR, Scholastic Books, Warner Brothers, etc. 

**Chapter Fourteen**

Hermione really wished Neville hadn't left. Really. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having at the minute. She didn't want to hear how Harry was sorry about the rumors starting up again and how he hoped that she wouldn't be too upset at him and that she wouldn't receive too many nasty letters. She didn't want to hear him speak, in that tone of voice, that told her clearly that he thought of her as nothing but a friend. 

Well, she supposed that he at least thought of her. That was more than most witches at the school could say. It wasn't as much as she wanted, but it would have to do. 

She could definitely live without him rubbing it in her face how he only thought of her as a friend however. 

"So Hermione," Harry asked from beside her. "Can we talk? It's really important." 

Hermione winced. As much as she would like to, there seemed to be no getting out of this conversation. "Sure Harry. Though I can guess what you're going to talk about . . . and I wanted to let you know that I'm not mad, I don't blame you and—" 

"That's good," he interrupted her. "I mean, I didn't mean to start those rumors, but you know how Divination is and . . ." 

"Yes, I know, Harry. It's a load of rubbish anyway. I don't know why you and Ron persist in taking that class." 

"I . . . yeah, well, that's not what I wanted to talk about . . . about those rumors . . . " 

"I know, Harry." Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. "They're just rumors, no substance to them all and—" 

"No, there's not . . ." Hermione's heart sank at his words. It was ludicrous, really, how upsetting it was for her to hear the truth for him. She would think that she would have hardened herself to it by now but somehow, she couldn't do that. 

"Yeah, and so we'll just have wait it out and —" Hermione began. 

"But there could be," he blurted out quickly. 

Hermione's jaw dropped. She couldn't have heard Harry correctly. "Um . . . I'm not sure I heard that right . . . did you say . . .?" 

Harry flushed and gamely answered her. "I said there could be. You know, substance to those rumors. I mean . . . I don't know what to say here . . . I just thought . . . and you probably think this is silly, but you, me . . . it's not impossible and it might be nice." 

Hermione was stumped. She was absolutely speechless. She hadn't ever expected to hear Harry say something like that. He had always been so oblivious to her and how she thought the world of him. Viktor had noticed that very quickly, much to her surprise. Looking back, she knew that she should have expected Viktor to put two and two together as soon as he did, especially given how much time she had spent with him during that year . . . and more often than not, talking about Harry. He was one of the best Seekers in the world and that basically amounted to him being renowned for seeing small things before others did. Only she didn't think what she felt was very small, not even back in her fourth year, though only Viktor had figured it out. They had parted amicably, though with more than just a tinge of sorrow on his part. He had wished her the best and told her that the one she loved was so lucky to have her . . . and to keep her chin up, for she was so wonderful that Harry would have to come to his senses one day. She had blushed and stammered and tried to refute his claims, but he looked at her, his gaze asking her not to lie . . . and so she had finally nodded and thanked him for his well wishes. 

And now, almost two years since she and Viktor had said their last good byes, Harry had finally woken up. 

Either that, or she just heard him wrong. Or perhaps she was dreaming and she'd wake up right before he kissed her. 

Hermione pinched herself. Hard. 

"Ow!" she cried. That had_ hurt_. 

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Harry asked, with concern in his eyes. "That looked like it hurt." 

"That it did, thank you very much." 

"Why did you do that then?" 

"Oh . . . yeah . . ." Hermione mumbled. She was still in the library and Harry was still gazing soulfully at her, except that he looked worried as well now. Obviously, she couldn't be dreaming so that only left one other option. "Anyway, I don't think I heard you right . . . must have had something in my ears. Could you repeat what you said?" 

"You didn't hear me? Okay, I guess that wasn't too coherent." Harry took a deep breath. "You . . . me . . . Hogsmeade this weekend?" 

That definitely did not sound like a date to Hermione. "Sure thing, Harry," she replied evenly. "Not that you had to ask, considering we always go to Hogsmeade together." 

"No, not like that. Not as friends . . . butlikeadate," Harry said quickly. 

Hermione blinked. "A date?" 

"Yeah." 

"Like a romantic date? You and me?" 

"Well . . . romantic with flowers and dinner by candlelight . . . I can try," Harry said earnestly. 

"We can't have dinner by candlelight. We'll have to be back before then," Hermione replied, ever the practical one. 

"Okay, we can have dinner here. That is if you want to go with me," Harry finished nervously, waiting for Hermione's response and hoping that he wasn't shaking too much. 

"I already said I would—" 

"But just as friends. I was asking as more than that . . . you might not know it – you probably don't know it, but there's no one who I'd rather be with. And I think that might mean something, though I'm not sure what exactly, but I really do want to get to spend some time alone with you . . . and could you please answer, Hermione? I've asked you three times already." 

"While in the library," Hermione noted.   
"Yeah . . . nothing wrong with that." 

"Except that I can't kiss you . . ." Hermione paused. She couldn't believe she just said that. She was supposed to think that only, not speak it. 

"So is that a yes?" 

"No!" 

". . . so you're not interested?" Harry asked forlornly. 

"No!" Hermione almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous the situation was. Finally, her best friend, who she had been pining for, had asked her out . . . but in the library, where she couldn't let him know everything she felt for him. To top it off, he was looking confused as she hadn't even bothered to say yes yet. 

It was past time to fix that. 

"I was going to say," she started, "that it's only Monday." 

"I know. Is it too early to ask? I didn't think that it was but I'm sorry Hermione, I'm not really experienced about this—" Harry was silenced by Hermione laying a finger softly against his lips. 

"I'd love to go with you to Hogsmeade this weekend. But I . . . I . . . I don't want to wait that long, not to be with you, not if you feel anything like I do, and I'd much rather . . ." 

Harry grinned. "Are you free this evening?" 

"Oh! I've that Transfiguration essay to write . . . and so do you and I hope you've started. . . but that shouldn't take me too long and so I should be free this evening . . ." Hermione was silenced by Harry suddenly leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers . . . and she couldn't think of anywhere she'd rather be than with him this evening or any other. 

Harry pulled back before the kiss could deepen. "So that is a yes?" 

Not forgetting where she was – for Hermione could never do that – she nonetheless ignored the rules and propriety for good measure, and pulled him down for another kiss. Actions spoke louder than words, after all, and she didn't want to leave him with any doubts about what she felt for him. 

Several minutes later into the kiss, everyone in the library had pretty much caught on to just what lay between Harry and Hermione. Which considering how closely they were pressed together and how eagerly they were kissing each other, the only thing that could fit between them was love.   
  


**Author's note:** Well, the original plan was to have this chapter up before a year had passed since I started writing this fic . . . but better later than never, I hope. Still one chapter left to this thing, as the fic really does need a conclusion, doesn't it? Anyway, thanks to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters. As always, I would ever so appreciate it if you could let me know what you thought of this chapter by leaving a review. 


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